


I Often Forgot

by bisquittes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, but end up hurting themselves, daisuga - Freeform, friends who act like lovers, haikyuu!! - Freeform, hq, kids who try to act mature, pain makes everything sweeter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 02:18:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2007273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisquittes/pseuds/bisquittes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The kind of friendship where you comfortably share the silence.<br/>The kind of friendship where words are unneeded.<br/>The kind of friendship where you act like lovers.<br/>The kind of friendship that ends with the both of you just stop speaking to each other.<br/>That kind of friendship.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	I Often Forgot

**Author's Note:**

> To Julia, who bore with me and tossed me into this ship in the first goddamned place.

 

　　　　　　　　　　　　

 

 

_Those moments when we forgot we were just good friends._

_Sometimes I wondered if I was the only one who forgot._

 

With his feet firmly planted on the accompanying bench, Koushi sat down on the table a couple of meters away from the court. The gymnasiums in the school were going to be used for a seminar that day, so they had all agreed to meet at the volleyball court in the other side of town and practice there instead. He decided to take a break from practicing his serves and sat down to take a good look at the other team members' forms and analyze what they could improve their plays with. The past few days, even Mr. Takeda noticed how much they had improved, particularly their receives. Ever since their outstanding losses against Nekoma, they had all been focusing on _keeping the ball connected_ , as Coach Nekomata wisely advised. That was a new strategy they were working on. He mentally took down notes he would have to go over with the team later.

Moments longer, he saw Daichi approaching. He sat down, leaning heavily against Koushi's leg. His eyes still on the team, he wrapped an arm around the other's waist and closed whatever distance that kept them apart.

“So, what do you think?”

Koushi flicked at Daichi's arm, but he did nothing about it but utter a small, _Ouch_. He followed the arc of Kageyama's toss to Asahi, who spiked the ball fiercely above the net. From where they were, they could hear Hinata's amazement and Kageyama's reprimands. He looked at Daichi and grinned. “I'm so proud of you all.”

“ _You_ all? Why not _us_ all? You've improved, too, you know,” the captain said encouragingly. “Now you're even hitting Nishinoya's tosses, which _you_ taught him, of course.”

“I only taught him the basics and a couple of techniques I learned, though. I think he learned more when Kageyama taught him the _Baaaaaaan_ and _Zuppaaaaan_ ,” he said, chuckling as he remembered the morning practice sessions spent with yelling around incomprehensible instructions. “But I have to admit, it's really refreshing to focus on new things different from our fortes.”

“It is, but of course—”

“We shouldn't forget to polish each of our best weapons,” Koushi continued, “everyone knows _that_ , Daichi.” He grinned. “Asahi's been honing that service ace for weeks now and Yamaguchi's nearing that perfect float serve. Two more weapons to add to the arsenal. I'm looking forward to see them in actual matches." His eyes followed the sharp spike Tanaka just hit. "I just wish I could play in more games,” he added quietly.

Daichi gave him a sidelong glance. “Suga...”

Koushi's eyes widened and he immediately covered his mouth. “Oh gosh, I didn't mean to sound depressing or anything. I just meant—”

“It's okay, Suga. I understand how you feel,” Daichi responded just as quietly. “We'll win a lot of games, and you'll play in them, too. I'll receive the balls and send them over to you, and you'll set up attacks and score us a lot of points. Of course, we can also count on the other guys to do the same. But we'll be hitting _your_ tosses. And we'll be able to win with them.”

A small smile managed its way to Koushi's face as a warm sort of excitement bubbled within him. He ruffled the captain's hair before slipping away and hopping off the table. He looked back at him and said, “so, let me toss to you?”

Daichi stood up and patted away the dust on his shorts. “Isn't that a given?”

 

…

 

“Hey, Suga!”

Koushi looked around and found their classmate, approaching them. “What's up, Amano?”

“Hey, Suga, Sawamura—” _Osu,_ Daichi said in greeting “—sorry for disturbing your lunch,” he said, pulling a chair from the adjacent table and settling himself down, “but I wanted to ask something about our last topic in English. You know we have a quiz later on and I haven't really gotten this part down yet. Modals. Would you mind teaching me for a bit?”

“No problem,” Koushi says, finishing up a slice of Daichi's egg roll, which earned him a resentful pout. He managed to efficiently explain how modals were different from each other, especially the _can_ 's and _may_ 's, and how to use them properly in constructing sentences. It didn't take more than a couple of minutes to finish up and Amano had left in no time. “Well that went well.” He went back to his lunch. He noticed how Daichi was in a daze, the empty ends of his chopsticks light on his lips. Koushi took an eggplant tempura from his own lunch box and put it into the captain's, immediately pulling him away from his stupor.

“Cool, thanks, Suga,” he said as he ate the piece.

“What's up with you?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Spacing out like that. That's pretty rare. What were you thinking about?”

“I'm not saying. You're just going to tell me it's banned to say things like that or that it's too depressing or something,” he said, putting his juice box to his mouth. “Besides, it's nothing _too_ serious or anything.”

Koushi made a face. “Come on, Dai, it's just the two of us. Plus, if it's something that makes you just randomly stare into space like that, then it must be _something_ , right? Go on, tell me about it.”

He let out a sigh. “Okay, fine.” He made a face at the grin Koushi made. “I was just thinking about what to major in university. Just in case. You already know that my first choice is a quota-course, so I'm going to need to get a relatively high mark on the entrance examinations to get into the program, and to be honest, I'm a little worried... I'm not sure if studying before getting to bed at night and waking up at 3 in the morning and studying before morning practice would be enough to get me through it.” He heaved a sigh as he tidied away his lunch box. “I know I have to get my priorities in check, but I don't want to give up one for the other. I want to both play volleyball and have a future, you know?”

A tender smile spread across Koushi's face. “I get what you mean.” He sighed and leaned back into his chair. “Geez, that _is_ a little depressing.”

“Told you.”

“And I don't mean the thought of it. I mean your attitude about it.” The captain raised a brow in question and he continued, “Daichi, we've been through a lot. _You've_ been through a lot. I at least know that much.” He took a breath and poked Daichi's forehead with the clean end of his chopsticks, earning him a scowl and a low, mumbled curse, which he only giggled at. “If I can say one thing about you, and it's that you're a horribly stubborn person, but you keep it to yourself. You hate things half-baked and you absolutely loathe the notion of giving in. If there's anything, I'm sure you'll put up a fight. I think it's the same thing now. You'd hate not getting into that quota-course of yours, so I'm sure you'll do everything you can to get accepted. I know you'll be willing to make sacrifices.” He patted the top of Daichi's head and then laughed heartily. “That was the kind of thing you wanted me to say, isn't it? Now hold still, you untidy kid.” Koushi took out his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away stray pepper from the corner of Daichi's mouth.

The captain held still as he was told and finally cracked a smile. He cleared his throat and in a mocking tone, he said, “my eternal, _perpetual_ gratitude for indulging me, then.”

“I feel like this somehow already became protocol. And anyway, eternal and perpetual mean the same thing, Daichi.”

“Twice the eternity, then, I wouldn't mind,” he persisted, waving his hand. “Anyway, I can always just skip sleeping a couple of hours to study.”

“What are you talking about? You were the one who said rest is important. Just focus on managing your time better. I'm sure you'll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“Stop that. You will. I'm sure.” Daichi opened his mouth again but before he could make a sound, Koushi made a face and waved his finger threateningly. “At least try to be optimistic, you!”

 

…

 

“Good work today, everyone!” Daichi's voice rang into the night.

“Good work!” Everyone responded.

While Coach Ukai held back the captain for a little while to talk about the upcoming matches, everyone had already left. Koushi stayed behind to wait for him, only to get pulled into the conversation. Tactics. Strengthening connections. Practice. Practice. Practice some more.

“You can count on it, coach.”

Coach Ukai smirked. “I know I can,” he took a breath and continued, “alright. Go home and get some rest, you two. You all have more training ahead of you.” And he waved them away.

“Thanks, coach. See you tomorrow!” The both of them replied. They watched him go to the opposite direction, for a drink, maybe, and they went on their way. No one spoke for a while. This wasn't unusual. Walking home together was something they always did ever since they've become friends. At first they used to talk about silly things that didn't involve volleyball: the principal's wig— _It's a toupee_ , Daichi insisted the principal called it—the shape of popsicles, how mapo tofu was better than soy sauce ramen, but agreeing they were two totally different things and that the bases for comparison were off by a nautical mile.

It seemed that somewhere along the way, on one of the many walks home they shared, they had somehow forgotten to keep speaking, and ended up walking in silence. It wasn't a bad thing. On the contrary, it was a refreshing change. Walking close to each other, side by side in the silence of the evening, they heard nothing but their footsteps on the pavement and their even, regular breathing. Everything seemed to harmonize into a nice rhythm. It felt sacred: a quiet stretch of time when they could either think of things other than volleyball or school, or bask in the calm, free their minds and think of nothing at all. And it was okay. Sometimes, when they walked a little too close, their hands would brush against each other and instead of retracting or apologizing, neither said anything about it. And their hands would touch lightly again. And again. And again. Neither of them seemed to mind. In fact, both seemed to welcome the sensation, even. It was like their connection to the earth, as if the gentle touches were what kept them grounded, so as not to stray too far away from each other.

There was one day back in January, when the cold was biting and even more so the moment they stepped out the gymnasium. The evening had set in, and they were on their way home after practice. Koushi kept his hands deep in his jacket's pockets, complaining how his fingers were freezing and how he had forgotten to bring gloves from home. Along the way, Daichi felt the brush of Koushi's hand against his gloved one and wondered why his hand was out in the freezing air. Before he had even realized what he was doing, he had taken off his glove and took Koushi's hand in his. The setter's hand was stiff and cold, but nonetheless, his fingers readily entwined with his.

Daichi took his free glove and handed it to him. “You can put this on your other hand.”

Koushi obliged and put it on before clasping hands again. He couldn't quite explain it, but as he felt a thumb gently run across the back of his hand, it was as if the warmth from Daichi's hand had managed to spread to every inch of his body, blanketing him like a sense of absolute security. He would never let himself forget that warmth. “It's actually warmer like this,” Koushi said, flexing his fingers and feeling the fine wool of the glove. He turned to him and smiled. His chest felt so full. With his breath fogging in front of him, he said, “thanks, Daichi.”

The day after that evening, Koushi returned Daichi's glove and swore to himself never to forget to bring his own. And he never did.

“Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then,” Koushi said, stopping at the street they split up at.

“Nah,” the captain said, continuing to walk past him. “I feel like walking around some more. Come on, Suga, I'll walk you home.”

Koushi frowned and stood rooted to the spot. “Daichi, if you walk me home, instead of getting home decently early, it's just going to eat up your time. Didn't you say you wanted more time to study?”

Daichi looked back at him and gestured him to walk along. “Come on, give me a break, Suga. It's like the only time of the day I can actually relax. What's fifteen, maybe twenty extra minutes of walking? Exercise is good for you.”

Koushi heaved an exasperated sigh, went straight to Daichi and pulled on the collar of his jacket. “No,” he said firmly, towing him up to the street. “You're going to walk straight home, have dinner, take a bath and study. Study real hard while exams are away. When they come, you won't be able to focus on the more important subjects. And I believe we get enough exercise everyday, anyway.” Pushing him to walk into the street, he said, “we can do this next time.”

The captain pouted, indignant and betrayed.

“Don't you make that face at me, Daichi.”

“You can be so stingy sometimes, you know that?”

“Come on, you know I'd love to walk with you, but this is for your own good,” he said, walking past him and waving good bye. He turned around and began walking backwards. He made a shooing gesture with his hands and said, “go on, I'll see you tomorrow!”

“Fine.” He waved good bye and walked home.

 

…

 

He finally got to play, but just as his adrenaline was at its peak, Coach Ukai decided to switch him out. No helping it. If it means winning the game, he'd be more than willing to be switched out, but still...

“Do great out there, you hear?” He told Kageyama as he passed him and patted him on the back.

The other setter nodded, “ _osu_.” There was a flare in his eyes and Koushi knew he wouldn't be let down.

Shimizu handed him a bottle of water and he uttered a thanks as he made his way to sit down next to the coach. His feelings were still too turbulent that he found a hard time to sit still. Coach Ukai noticed this and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Try to relax, Suga. You did a great job.”

That calmed him down just a tiny bit and gave him a nice relief, but he was still too tense. He took a breath and lightly slapped his cheeks with his palms and tried to concentrate on watching the game instead.

Two sets and a number of time-outs later, he was on his feet, screaming his heart out as the team had just scored their match point. Just one more and they would win the game. It was Hinata's service. He was nervous, but everyone else was confident. They had a four-point lead. His serve was received perfectly by the opposing team's libero, who returned it flawlessly to their setter. Aiming for a point, their setter tossed the ball to their ace, who maneuvered his spike skillfully past Tsukishima and Asahi's block. Just when the opposing team expected to score, Daichi made a dive to receive the ball and keep it in motion. From that position, he was able to stop the ball's rotation and it flew high above them.

“Nice receive, Daichi! That was perfect! Good job!” Koushi had yelled from the sidelines.

Daichi heard him and flashed him a quick smile before yelling to his teammates, “sorry about that, cover it!”

But there was no need to cover it: Kageyama had already ran to where the ball was and by either ends of the net, Tanaka and Hinata jumped, expecting to spike. The other team's blockers also jumped for a block, but unfortunately for them, the ball had been tossed to Asahi, who came through with a back attack—and scored their winning point.

There was the piercing whistle from the referee, and before they knew it, they were already running toward each other, patting each other on the back, yelling out praises and ultimately celebrating their hard-earned victory. Daichi had just teasingly downplayed Asahi's recent spike when he noticed Koushi running over to them. He turned just in time to catch Koushi with his open arms. The setter embraced him tightly.

“I'm so happy—I'm so happy we won,” Koushi shakily mumbled in his ear.

“You helped, too,” he said. He held him tight, as if worried that the other would slip away, and kissed him on the forehead. And kissed him again on the corner of his eye. Daichi felt the arms around him tighten as he did so, but he then felt them loosen and finally let go. Koushi gazed at him with his mouth slightly open, a mixture of surprise and amazement and disbelief across his face, making Daichi realize what he had just done. For a moment that seemed like an eternity, they held each other's gaze, searching, _anticipating,_ until—

Just _what_ were they waiting for, exactly? The embrace felt different. The way they held onto each other. It lingered, and it felt different. And the kisses. They gave him a certain heat to his cheeks and a weird feeling in his stomach. 

_That couldn't possibly be—_

Koushi made his lips into a curt grin and went off to congratulate the others. Daichi was left to watch him, only to get pulled back into the moment when Hinata accidentally collided into him while he was running away from Kageyama. “Ah, I'm sorry!”

“Great job!”

“You guys were amazing!”

“Captain, that receive was awesome!”

Praises and congratulations were thrown abundantly, and the sound filled Daichi's ears. But it all felt empty.

 

…

 

“Good work today, everyone! See you tomorrow at morning practice. Don't be late!” Daichi's words rang into the early evening.

“See you!” They all chorused.

As they all made to leave, Daichi expected Koushi to be waiting for him. He was right, except Koushi was waiting along with everyone who went the same way as them. Not that he minded.

The walk home was uneventful. Everyone was talking about one thing or another. Koushi kept close between Asahi and Kageyama for some reason. He didn't talk to him much, either, but he told himself it was nothing to worry about. The usual good byes were given when they split up at streets and he walked home in silence.

The following day, like any other day, they had lunch together. Koushi still put fried eggplants in his lunch box, wiped away anything that made a mess of his mouth, and smiled as he did so. But he was unusually quiet. He only spoke when he was spoken to, never really initiating the conversation. A few times Daichi caught him staring into space. His expression, dazed but serene, was beautiful against the spring sunlight. Daichi said nothing about it. Whenever he tried to speak to him, he was only given brief replies.

“Suga?” He tried once when Koushi was spacing out. “Suuugaaa?”

No response. How far away was he?

Daichi sighed. “Koushi.”

As if being tugged by the collar, the setter quickly turned to him. His brows were knit and his lips were fashioned in a light frown. How long has it been since he heard someone other than his family call him by that name? When was the last time he heard Daichi call his name like that? He couldn't remember, and he couldn't quite tell how he felt about it.

“Are you okay?” Having received a perplexed look, he continued, “is there something the matter?”

Koushi looked at him, a little surprised. He was touched, to be honest. “Sorry,” he said, quiet. “Sorry for making you worry, Daichi. Thanks for your concern, but I'm alright. Just a little tired.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

In response, he lowered his gaze and smiled. He poked the other's thumb with his finger. “I'm good. Thanks.”

Still unconvinced, Daichi conceded. “If you say so.”

The noon time breaks that followed were spent in silence. It wasn't the kind of calming silence that they used to bask in each other's presence in, but the kind that feels constricting, uncomfortably assessing whether a conversation should be initiated or not. That was how it seemed to Daichi, at least. For some reason, it had become increasingly difficult to speak with Koushi, let alone keep it going. Anything unrelated to school work or volleyball was met with short answers that always meant to prematurely end the exchange. Once or twice more, Daichi asked if there was anything bothering him, or if there was anything he could do, but he was always given the same answer, “I'm fine.” Eventually, Daichi thought that maybe Koushi just needed time alone. To think. To breathe. Their days _had_ become more hectic. Exams are coming up, and training wasn't letting up, either. Maybe the stress was just getting to him, Daichi thought.

 

…

 

Something neatly wrapped was placed on his desk. “Huh?” Koushi looked at the item, curious.

“Your favorite,” Daichi said. “I hope this makes you feel better.”

“Extra spicy mapo tofu?”

Daichi made a face. “What? No. Why would I even—never mind. Just open it already.”

Koushi examined the package and looked inside. “ _Daifuku_?”

“Strawberry.”

The surprise on the setter's face was evident. “Why?”

Daichi leaned back in his chair, lax as can be. He propped up an elbow and rested his chin against his knuckles. “What do you mean why? Can't you just say 'thanks' instead?”

“Oh, right. Thanks. But why, though?”

“So strawberry _daifuku_ still isn't enough to cheer you up?”

Koushi slowly broke into a smile and chuckled. Finally.

“There we go.”

That smile of his. It's different from the _you did well today_ smile, or the _we'll do better next time_ smile, or the _you've improved so much_ smile. That smile. That particular smile. He hasn't seen it for a while. It brought him quite the relief seeing it now.

He had no idea that was the last time he would be seeing that smile for a while.

The team had just split up to go their own streets, and Koushi was left to walk back to his house, solely accompanied by the lone _daifuku_ left from earlier that day. There were five of them originally, but since he insisted that Daichi have some, too, they ended up having two each. He decided to eat it on his way home. A little snack before dinner wouldn't hurt. As the strawberry tart filled his mouth, he thought about how Daichi looked propped against the chair earlier.

He shook his head, trying to shake away the uncomfortable flush growing across his nose to his cheeks. It was difficult to act normal when he tended to overthink every little detail, especially after what happened in the last match.

“He was just concerned about me, is all,” he quietly told himself. “Nothing more, nothing less.” There was a small sense of unease at the back of his mind, a gnawing feeling in him that opposed his words. He hated how it felt and did his best to ignore them. “He couldn't possibly... There's just no way that could be possible.” He forced out a laugh. That afternoon, he had left a page from his tiny notepad in Daichi's Modern Literature book. On it was a tiny doodle of himself saying _thank you_ , grinning with a peace sign. He wondered if Daichi found it yet. He bit his lip and sighed. “Nothing's up.” With a frown, he looked to the half-eaten confection. “Right?”

The following days, Daichi noticed that nothing much had changed with the way Koushi acted. Sure, he was able to coax out a few words and even a smile some days before, but he soon returned to that reserved, quiet state he had been in in the past few days. Daichi convinced himself that it may just be the stress of the school tests, university entrance examinations and training piling up on him. He might just need some breathing space, he thought. Although he wanted to be someone who can help—be someone Koushi could _lean_ on, he decided to give him some space. He might just need time to think. Daichi stopped trying to speak to him and kept his distance. He told himself that he would only approach the setter only when deemed absolutely necessary.

Koushi noticed how Daichi significantly reduced any interactions with him. It felt lonely at first—it still did—but he came to acknowledge that he was the one who started it, anyway.

 _Y_ _es, this is for the best_ , he thought. _Daichi wouldn't have to be bothered with me, and I wouldn't have to think too much about him. Yes, this is good. This is for the best._ He repeated those words over and over until he managed to make himself believe them to be the truth.

Regretfully, Daichi got more than what he bargained for. He hardly got any chances to talk, or even _be around_ Koushi. During morning practice, Koushi would always just either toss to the first years, or teach Nishinoya how to toss. There weren't any opportunities to talk to him other than the occasional shouted compliments or suggestions. During breaks, he would always run off somewhere, to the library? Cafeteria? To the gym? Either way, before he even had the chance to approach him, Koushi would have already left. What happens in the mornings would be the same things to happen during their afternoon practices. When they would walk home, it would be with everybody else. Not that he minded— _really_ , he didn't—but Koushi would always keep next to other people, away from him. Even though he was always surrounded with the team and their ever-present noise, he couldn't help that there was a part of him that felt lonely, like there was an empty space that haunted him.

As he made his way alone to his house, a thought struck him, not that it hadn't crossed his mind before. In the times he watched Koushi around other people, there was nothing odd in the way he acted. At least, it seemed that way. He didn't seem too reserved, not too quiet, even loud at times, and he even smiled. He was still his usual self. Mature. Accountable. Kind. Sublime.

He couldn't help think that he was the only one who was being treated differently. He concluded as much. Then it must have been something he did. He couldn't remember doing anything especially stupid. He hadn't purposely thrown a ball into him for some time now, he hadn't once switched their juice boxes since that time two months ago, he even gave him the spicy tofu whenever they had lunch at the cafeteria, so then it must have been—

 _Was it because of_ that _time?_

Was that why Koushi had been avoiding him? He only kissed his forehead. And the mole near his eye. Since that happened, he never stopped to think about it. More like, he didn't _want_ to go back to it. Now was the first time he allowed himself to think about it since it happened. He had no idea why, but now that he thought about it, he remembered _everything._ How Koushi ran straight into his arms, how he held him tight, the feel of Koushi's fingers gripping his shirt, the feel of Koushi's skin against his parched lips.

 _This_ was why he didn't want to think about it. There was a very uncomfortable feeling at the pit of his stomach. It made him feel sick and restless and he wanted nothing more than to make it stop. He wasn't really thinking when he did it—it just _happened._ It felt like the right thing to do at the time. But it didn't really mean anything. Right? It was just a spur of the moment kind of thing. The lingering embrace was just a hug. The kiss— _kisses_? Platonic. The way they looked at each other? Well, that was something he himself was confused with. He couldn't tell what the look on Koushi's face meant. He couldn't tell what he was thinking. That was the first time Koushi ever looked like that.

Daichi shook his head. “That couldn't possibly be it. Kou— _Suga,”_ he coughed, correcting himself, “wouldn't have thought anything of it. He probably just shrugged it off right after.” He looked up to the sky and watched a crow glide past. “I'll talk to him tomorrow. Hopefully I get to the bottom of this.”

“The last spike you did was reeeeeeeally lame, Asahi-san,” Nishinoya stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “It lacked that _zupan_ quality to it!”

“ _Zupan_ quality?” Asahi repeated, clueless.

The team was on their way home, a mass of noisy high school kids, the noise mostly being comprised of Nishinoya and Hinata's voices overriding everyone and everything else. As usual, Koushi was somewhere in the middle of it, surrounded by teammates and the noise. Daichi couldn't hear him speaking to anyone, however. He thought that the setting was a perfect excuse to pull him away from the group and speak to him. Granted he didn't really have any opportunities to seriously speak with him, he judged this to be his best chance.

He quietly made his way to the back of the group, unnoticed by anyone. He caught sight of a familiar light beige head trailing behind. He approached Koushi and lightly pulled on the back of his jacket. The setter looked at him over his shoulder with polite curiosity, but when he realized it was Daichi, his expression changed into one of surprise and something else. Discomfort? Disbelief? _Why?_ Daichi wasn't sure what it was but he felt something tug at him about it. He tried to ignore it; there were much more pressing matters at hand. He lowered his head a little as he stuck out his thumb and jerked it behind him. Koushi nodded and slowed down his pace so that they were walking a bit behind the others.

And like that, they walked beside each other in silence.

Daichi didn't know just how long they stayed like that, not speaking or even looking at each other, save for the two or three sidelong glances he spared to check on him. The silence felt so strained. Uncomfortable. Constricting. He had never been in a situation like this, much less with Koushi. Whenever he was around him, all he ever felt was comfortable and relaxed and for some reason, there was the overhanging feeling of security. He was free to say and do anything without being judged, not that he ever did or said anything too outrageous. But most importantly, he not once ever felt the need to keep talking. Being around him in the quiet was enough. And they welcomed the shared silence.

But this time was not one of those times. He felt the need to say something, that much he was sure of. Just as he opened his mouth to speak—

“Alright, guys, see you tomorrow!” Nishinoya's voice boomed. “First years shouldn't be late for morning practice tomorrow, okay?”

“But we're never late, Noya-san!” Hinata chimed in. “Kageyama and I are always early!”

There were _good bye_ 's and a seemingly endless strings of _see you_ 's before each had turned their own ways until Daichi and Koushi found themselves alone together. Some of the team members had left in pairs, some in smaller groups, saying something about studying and dropping by some places and other things. Fate must have given him this chance to talk to Koushi. He couldn't let this chance slip away.

He _can't_ mess this up.

He _had_ to do something.

They continued to walk. No one spoke. Koushi didn't want to say anything. He felt a little stiff and strained, but knowing that the next street they would pass would be Daichi's, some sort of relief was slowly seeping into him. He wouldn't have to endure anymore. Come to think of it, why did Daichi even pull him out in the first place?

Koushi stopped in his tracks. “Well, this way's to your house, Daichi. I guess I'll see you tomorrow,” he said, with none of his usual vigor. Whatever hint of a grin that was on his face was quickly wiped away when Daichi walked past him. “Huh..?”

“Keep walking. I want to walk a bit more.”

“But don't you—”

Daichi looked over his shoulder with a slightly troubled smile on his face. “Just this once? Please?”

Koushi swallowed a lump in his throat and pulled his lips into a straight line. He said nothing more and made to catch up to him.

“Thanks.”

Koushi consciously kept some distance between him and Daichi. Not too far to offend, neither too close that their hands would touch. As much as he wanted to be free from the other's warm, consoling presence, he wanted to know why Daichi bothered himself to pull him away from the team.

“Daichi?” He began, sparing a tiny glance at him from the corner of his eye. “Are you alright?”

The captain looked at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

Koushi shrugged. “I was just curious. You okay?”

“What? I mean, yeah, I'm good, _great_ , really.” His brows knit and he shook his head.

“That's good.”

It was a ways to go before they reached Koushi's house. Daichi was getting restless the more they walked in the empty silence. He had a goal, didn't he? He had to know what's going on with Koushi. He had to get to the bottom of the growing distance that kept them apart, and hopefully put an end to it. He had to act now.

“Actually, Suga,” he began, looking straight ahead. “I wanted to know... How have _you_ been lately?”

“What do you mean? I'm doing fine.”

Ignoring what Koushi had just said, Daichi continued, “I haven't seen much of you lately, you see. I mean, sure, I see you at class and at practice, but... I haven't really seen much of _you,_ you know?”

His tone almost made Koushi's heart break. His hand closed dangerously around the handkerchief in his pocket. Why did he have to sound like that?

“To be honest, if I didn't know any better, I would've thought you were actually avoiding me,” he said with a tight laugh. “So I just wanted to know how you've been doing lately. Or if there's something bothering you, or if there's anything I could do to help, or maybe...” He trailed off. “Is there something I've done?”

This took Koushi by surprise. “What? No, no,” he said, finally looking at him. _Not really_ , he thought. He bit his lip. A large mound of guilt suddenly weighed down in his stomach. He wanted to apologize, but if he did, he would simply be confirming Daichi's suspicions. He looked away.

“Nothing's wrong, really.”

Daichi took a breath. “Suga, you've been distant lately,” he said, “you know, if there's something bothering you, you can tell me about it. Hell, you can talk to me about _anything_. You know that. If something's happened at home, or at school, or if it's a girl, you can talk to me about it. If it's something weighing you down, then I want to do anything I can to help ease it, even if it's just a little.” He paused. “You can lean on me, you know. I'm actually sturdier than you might think.”

The sincerity in his voice made Koushi want to look at him, but at the same time he didn't want Daichi to see his face. He was sure it was flushed. He could certainly feel his nose and cheeks warmer than normal. Instead, he chanced a small glimpse and kept his eyes trained forward. The grip on his handkerchief loosened. He felt the pressure of his nails that dug into his palm lessen.

“So you were worried...” He quietly muttered, sounding like both a statement and a question.

Daichi whipped around to fully face him. He looked severely annoyed. “ _What?_ Of course I am. Isn't this,” he made a gesture with his hands, trying to refer to their current situation, “enough proof that I'm worried? Seriously, Suga, we've been through a lot already, and you're important to me. You should know that by now. If just one day, you suddenly act all different around me, and that drags on for weeks on end, you think I wouldn't be suspicious? You think I wouldn't be worried? Give me one good reason why I _shouldn't_ be.”

His words were forceful and heavy. To be able to say something like that, he could imagine how much it took Daichi to say his honest feelings. The guilt and the weight of Daichi's words were almost suffocating him.

He couldn't do the same. He didn't have the courage Daichi had. At least, not yet. But he knew he had to at least say _something_ . But _what_ should he say? Should he lie? No, he didn't like telling lies. Especially not to Daichi. He felt trapped and helpless. This wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want to trouble Daichi with concerns about him; Daichi _didn't need_ to concern himself about him. He—

“You said I didn't do anything.” Daichi stopped in his tracks.

 _No, not_ really, Koushi thought.

“If that's the case, then has something else happened? Suga, I want to know what's up.”

Koushi bit his lip. He opened and closed his mouth as a fish would, hesitating.

“Please?”

A sudden rush of relief flooded Koushi as his attention was stolen by a familiar platinum blond-headed figure waving at them a short distance away. The figure was walking toward them from the opposite direction. Koushi waved back. Daichi turned around and as he caught the sight, he did the same; he didn't need to strain his eyes in the dim of the evening to know who it was. Koushi glanced at the captain, looking worried. Before he even had the chance to say anything, the figure had already appeared before them, beaming magnificently.

“Yo there, little bro!” He said, putting an arm around Koushi's shoulders. He turned his lean frame to face Daichi and hooked an arm over his shoulder so that he and Koushi were at either side of him. He was taller than either of them. “Long time no see, Daichi!”

“Osu,” he answered, grinning. “Long time no see, Yukito-san.”

So that was why Daichi suddenly stopped. They were already in front of his house. Koushi didn't even notice.

“You're back early, Yuki-nii,” Koushi said as he and Daichi were being ushered past the large gap in the fence that was the entryway to the front yard.

“The shop owner wanted to close up early because it was he and his wife's anniversary. They even gave me some _sekihan_ to celebrate. _W_ e can have that for dessert later,” he answered cheerfully. They were already midway across the yard when another familiar figure came bounding out of the door.

“Yuki-nii, Kou-nii!” The small voice rang into the evening air. It came from a small frame, light brown hair billowing as the child came running with open arms. She immediately ran into Yukito, who had released his two captives and caught his sister and held her up. She laughed loudly as he did. “I heard your voices from the living room and—” she caught sight of Daichi, and exclaimed happily, “Dai-chan's here, too!”

“Hello, Marin!” He said, chuckling as he waved at the little girl.

“Daichi hasn't visited us in a while, hasn't he? How disdainful.” Yukito told his sister loudly with feigned displeasure.

“Yeah! That was very bad of you!”

“Come now, you two. Things have been very busy lately with the volleyball club and school,” Koushi butted in, lightly pressing his forefingers to each of his siblings' noses, earning him two stuck-out tongues. Koushi frowned at that. “Really...”

Daichi laughed. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but it's just as Kou-nii said, things have been busy lately,” he said as he put a hand on the back of his neck. “But I promise I'll visit when I have the time.”

“What's all this ruckus about?” Came a woman's voice from the door. “Oh my, is that Daichi-kun?”

“Hi mom, we're back,” Koushi and Yukito said in chorus.

The woman, whose age had been made apparent in her features, was refined and still beautiful. She had a kind look in her eyes, one trait that she and her children shared. They all resembled her. Aside from the fact that their hair were the different shades of the same color, they all possessed a kind look in their dark amber eyes and a warmth in their smiles that always felt like home. Since Daichi hadn't been around Koushi lately, he hadn't seen that smile for a while. And it happened to be his favorite, too.

“Daichi-kun!” She exclaimed, putting a hand on his cheek, another patting his head. “We haven't seen you in a while! How have you been?”

He gave her a boyish smile and answered with a small laugh, “I've been good, Mariko-san. Just busy with school and volleyball practice.”

“Oh, yes, yes, I can imagine. Koushi here's been busy lately, too. Now, I know you're working hard, but _do_ remember to take care of yourself, okay? Don't overwork yourself,” she said.

“You should tell that to Yuki-nii,” Koushi mumbled quietly.

“Alright then, since everyone's here, let's go inside and have dinner now.” Mariko insisted, ushering everyone into the house. “I'm not taking 'no' for an answer, Daichi-kun. You can call home and tell them you're having dinner with us.”

“Ah, but I really should be going now, so—” Daichi began, only to have an arm hook around his shoulders again and be dragged along into the house.

“No can do, Daichi,” Yukito told him, still beaming. “Mom's word is law around these parts.”

Mariko made her way into the kitchen. “Go wash up now, boys,” she told them and then called to the youngest, “Marin? Help me set up the table, would you?” The moment she was down, she immediately bounded after her mother.

“I'll go help set the table,” Koushi said, walking past Yukito and Daichi in the doorway.

Dinner went well. Not like he expected it to go any other way. Daichi always liked having dinner at the Sugawara residence. Mariko's cooking was always delicious, Yukito and Marin always had stories to tell, and of course, Koushi would be right there with him, exchanging comments and chiming in from time to time. But they had none of those exchanges tonight. Any sort of exchange they had tonight was a quiet _here's your tea_  and his uttered _thanks_. It was a good thing that Koushi's family didn't notice anything too odd about them. They were too busy asking him things, telling him things and basically making him feel like family. Until it was time to leave.

He had just finished helping out with clearing the table when he said, “it's getting late. I have to go home now. Thank you for having me for dinner.”

Mariko made a show of pouting. “That's too formal, Daichi-kun. You know you're always welcome here in our home.”

“True that. Marin loves having you here,” Yukito added, pointing over the child grinning at him from the table.

She jumped down from her seat and stood beside Daichi, the smile on her face gone and replaced by a cautious frown. “Dai-chan, when will you be coming back?”

“Marin, don't bother him like that, he's busy— _everyone_ 's busy with studying right now,” Koushi said.

“Your brother's right, Marin,” Mariko kindly told the child.

“But it's Dai-chan!” Marin insisted.

Daichi laughed. Mariko apologized about her daughter, but he just grinned and said, “I promise when I'm not busy anymore, I'll stop by.”

After a few more minutes of good bye's and take care's and see you soon's, he finally managed to get to the entryway. Everyone waved him good bye one last time before Koushi said, “I'll see him off,” and trailed close behind him. He shut the door on their way out. In the short walk across the front yard, neither of them spoke, keeping their eyes trained on anywhere but each other. When they reached the large gap in the concrete fence that was the entrance to their home, Koushi stood there, tense as he averted his face from the other. Daichi, in turn, stood before him, waiting patiently. If Koushi had wanted him to leave, he would've already sent him off.

“Daichi,” the setter said finally, his eyes still to the ground.

“Suga.”

Koushi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked up to meet the other's gaze. At long last. The dark amber of his eyes shone brilliantly in the dim light of the moon. Daichi couldn't recall the last time he had a good look at them.

“You're right, Daichi,” Koushi began, the glint in his eyes burning with determination. “Something _has_ happened. Something happened and I think it might have changed me. It's a difficult matter for me and I'm still struggling about it. I want to tell you about it, Daichi, believe me, I really do. But I can't. At least not now. I still need time to get myself together. But I can promise you this: when this dies down and I finally get a firm grasp of things, I'll tell you about it. Everything. When I'm ready.”

Daichi looked at him, his face expressionless. Koushi bit at his lip again and held his breath. He deliberately breathed out when Daichi's lips curved into a small smile.

“Then I guess I'll just have to wait until you're ready,” he said. He reached out for Koushi and patted his head, his fingers grazing light beige locks. “I just hope that time comes quickly. I've missed you a lot, Suga.” His hand slid down to cup the other's face, his thumb gently brushing against Koushi's cheek as he gazed into mild dark amber eyes.

“I've missed you, too, Daichi,” he replied. Unaware, Koushi reached up and held onto Daichi's wrist. “I'm sorry I'm doing this.”

“You don't have to apologize. I understand. Sort of, at least,” Daichi laughed, “you only ever do things if you think it's for the best.” Koushi noticed Daichi's other hand make a motion, as if to reach out to him. An embrace, maybe? He waited for it to come, but it never did. He saw it stop, retract and retreat into safety of his jacket pocket. With a couple of light pats on the side of Koushi's face, and an embarrassed grin, he took back his hand as it slipped away from his hold. “Right?”

Koushi made his lips into a grin and nodded meekly. “You better get going now before it gets too late. You need to study hard for that quota-course, don't you?”

There it was again, Daichi thought. That melancholy grin. He hated seeing that. “Yeah, I do, actually.” He pulled his lips into a straight line and made to leave, “well, see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah.” Koushi waved. He watched the black of Daichi's jacket blend in with the darkness of the evening. “Good bye.”

 _If it's for the best_ , Daichi's words rang in his mind. _Was it really for the best?_ He looked down at his hand. The feel of Daichi's wrist lingered, as well as his scent. Now he regretted reaching for him. He waited for Daichi's hand to reach to him as well, and his chest ached when it didn't.

He hated that he felt this way.

He wanted it to stop.

Was it really for the best? A voice in the back of his mind echoed, distant and hollow. He bit his lip and balled his fists. He didn't mind how painful it felt when his nails dug into his palms.

 _Of course it is. He doesn't need to be bothered by whatever I may feel... This is for the best_ . _For both of us._

“Are you okay?” Yukito asked as he passed the living room. There was not a shred of mirth in his voice.

Koushi hesitated for a moment before pulling out a sad grin. “Hopefully getting there,” he said and left. Yukito followed him with his eyes, not a curve of a smile on his lips.

 

…

 

They kept their distance, but they were conscious enough to keep appearances. Just like before, Daichi gave his all into returning his receives to Koushi, who tossed the ball as best he could. They shouted praises and suggestions from afar and feigned each other smiles. The team didn't notice much of a change between them. Except that one time.

“Nice receive!” Koushi yelled.

“Suga,” Shimizu said.

He was standing by the sidelines, just a little further from the other team members. It was a bit of a surprise when Shimizu called him. He looked over to her with a grin and polite curiosity. “Hmm?”

“Is there something the matter between you and Sawamura?”

Her question caught him off guard. The grin on his face slipped away. How was he supposed to take that? His mind was attempting to run a thousand things at once; his mouth hung open as he stared at Shimizu's expressionless gaze. The only thing he could manage was a choked, “what?”

“It seems that the others may have not noticed, but,” she began as she continued watching the game, “it looks like you and Sawamura haven't been your usual selves for a time now.”

 _For a time now? How long did she notice this?_ Koushi thought. They were careful not to raise any suspicions, and yet they couldn't get past Shimizu on this. Somehow, this wasn't really shocking news.

“Has something happened?” She prodded, clapping her hands as their team scored another point.

“What are you talking about, Shimizu? And we're in the middle of a game, too,” he said with a slightly troubled smile. He had to admit, that was a weak attempt at diverting the conversation, even for him. He then quickly pretended to watch the game again so he could avoid looking at her.

“I figured if it weren't too serious, it wouldn't be too much to ask about it. It's a simple yes or no question, after all...”

Koushi bit his lip. She was right. He was taking this too seriously. He could have just shrugged it off and answered 'no.' Taking a longer time answering and even attempting to avoid the subject would just be spelling out the obvious. He had to take damage control.

“Shimizu, thank you for your concern, but nothing's up. We're okay, really,” Koushi said, smiling and praying that he sounded perfectly normal.

Behind her glasses, she looked at him from the corner of her eye. She didn't say anything for a while, which made Koushi nervous. Of course it wouldn't pass as a decent cover, what was he even thinking? It's _her_ , after all.

“As long as your performances aren't affected, then...” She turned her head slightly to look at him. “But whatever it is, I hope you resolve it soon.”

Koushi just looked back at her, unable to say anything but give a small nod. “Yeah.”

He kept his word. In fact, instead of having his performance compromised, his plays had actually improved drastically, even surprising coach Ukai. He was even allowed to play in several games—which they all won. Seeing as there was nothing he could distract himself with, other than volleyball and his studies, it was only natural that he focused all his time and energy in them. He studied and trained and studied some more, so much that he had thought of little else. He needed one hundred percent of his concentration. He couldn't let himself slip. He knew what would happen if he did. It already happened once, and he didn't want to have to face it again. It was a horrible feeling. He had diligently trained himself not to let his thoughts stray too far, much less anywhere near Daichi. Except a miscue one night. In the quiet repose as he lay in bed, slipping in and out of reality in all fragility, somehow, Daichi appeared in his thoughts, which had soon melded into his dreams. And, without warning, all at once, it came crashing down on him. Brutally, relentlessly, weighing down on his chest, suffocating him and piercing at every inch of him. The truths. _His_ truths. His yearning. His longing. The crippling pain knowing the only thing he ever wanted the most was the only thing he can absolutely never have.

“Daichi,” he said in his sleep, several times, in low, barely audible whispers. He woke up in the dead of the night with that name midway out his lips. He stared into the ceiling for a time, his mind mercifully blank. There was the hot sensation of something wet roll down the side of his cheek and into his hair. Realizing what it meant, he bit down hard on his lip and clenched his fists. “God damn it,” he muttered through gritted teeth and turned sideways, praying to whatever deity was listening to give him a dreamless sleep.

Daichi, on the other hand, couldn't do much except watch Koushi from afar. He wanted to approach him. He wanted to sit next to him. He wanted to talk to him about silly things like how jackets are folded— _you're supposed to hang them_ , Koushi would say—or the best fruit pop flavor, or where pencil writings went when you erased them. He wanted to sit down a step below him and wrap his arm around his waist as they watched the others practice their receives. He wanted to walk beside him in the subdued shadows of the cold evenings and feel the warmth of the back of their hands as they gently brushed against each other. He wanted things to go back to how they were before, but with each day that passed, he knew they were drifting further and further away from that. He couldn't help but blame himself. Everyday, he blamed himself for being unable to do anything. He couldn't even take a step closer to him. The only thing that kept him going was the thought that if this was what Koushi wanted, then he will respect his decision. If Koushi says that this is for the best, then he would believe him.

Having that thought did not make him feel any less terrible, however, because Koushi was right _there_ , practically in front of him. And yet, there he was, too powerless to even close the distance. He hated it. But he clenched his fist and bore with it.

And the days went on, heeding nothing but itself. Ever since they spoke that night, nothing had happened between the two of them except grow ever more distant from each other. Koushi stopped saying good morning, and instead just bowed his head slightly in recognition, and Daichi did the same. Daichi never caught sight of Koushi during breaks; he would always run off somewhere, only to return just before the next class began. When they passed each other in the halls, they pretended not to notice each other and instead focused on either their notes or other people. As if it were taboo, they avoided saying each other's names. In fact, as much as they could, they even avoided referring to each other in conversations with other people. During practices, they would speak to each other only when it was necessary. Any exchange between them comprised strictly of tactics, shift in strategies, points for improvement, and the like. The most personal they had gotten was when Daichi handed Koushi a towel and asked if he were alright. He nodded and uttered a word of thanks. That was it. Nothing came after that. The single action of making sure he was alright and the other thanking him had been buried in their vicious, repetitive cycle of avoidance.

 

…

 

Time. It marched on into oblivion, having no regard of anything else.

Before anyone knew it, the four third-years were finally graduating. They were all going to the universities they applied for, so they had no more worries for the time being, except to look decent enough as they climbed on stage to receive their diplomas. Their chests felt so full: of pride, of relief, of an overwhelming flurry of emotions. All their hard work for three years had finally paid off. This was it. They were graduating. Finally. _Finally._

Which meant they weren't going to see much of each other in the future.

Today was supposed to be a festive day brimming with youth and vigor and happiness and relief, but Daichi felt a strong sense of restless unease. It wouldn't feel right if he and Koushi just left without saying anything to each other, without even having a tiny shred of acknowledgment or—he dreaded the word— _closure_. Something had to be said, at least. An overhanging impression clung to him that if he chose not to do anything, he would live on with the arduous weight of regret. He had to do something. He just _had_ to.

As the people scattered about the place, the wind carrying with it colored leaves with the occasional flowers, Daichi looked around for a light beige head among the throng of people. It didn't take long for him to find what he was searching for: the familiar frame with the familiar posture and the familiar light beige locks was shuffling by near the stage, speaking to one of the teachers. Daichi made his way to him as quickly as he could.

Parting away people as he waved the arm that held onto his diploma, he called out, “Suga!” It had been so long since the last time he said that name aloud. It felt foreign and awkward, then familiar and sweet in his mouth. He called him again, “Suga!” His voice rang over the crowd. Koushi turned to see him and bode the teacher farewell. They met halfway, pulling each other in a corner away from the masses.

“Daichi,” Koushi said a little too tenderly, which made the other glance away, half-embarrassed. Koushi simply stood there and indulged himself with gazing at him. It had been so long since he had a nice look at him. How he missed looking at those handsome features. “Congratulations, Daichi. We finally have our diplomas now,” he waved around the ornate wooden tube in his hands and smiled sweetly at him.

“Yeah, congratulations,” Daichi replied. His heart was pounding so hard he swore it was hitting his ribs. There was a rush inside him. Apart from graduating at last, they were finally, _finally_  speaking again. Koushi was smiling at him and he felt his insides squirm. He had to pull himself together. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Koushi watched him carefully, taking in his form. When he opened his eyes, there was a serene clarity in them, and he was calm. “Suga," he began, "we aren't going to see much of each other after this.” He spoke, hoping it would sound light and nothing too serious, but the austerity in his voice was palpable.

Koushi nodded. “I know.”

“And it's been quite a while now... Aren't you ready yet? I mean, I've waited a long time already. And honestly, I've missed you a lot.” He unconsciously placed a hand on his nape and quietly added, "a _whole_ lot." He paused. “I don't want to force or pressure you or anything, but if you tell me what's bothering you and I promise not to judge you or anything, well, truth be told, I don't think anything you can ever think to say or do will ever make me judge you, really,” he laughed. “Anyway, if I promise you that, then... Can I at least have you back? I don't like seeing you so troubled, and more than anything, I don't want to lose you, Suga. To anything.”

Though Daichi kept his lips curved in a grin, there was a look in his eyes that tore at Koushi's heart. Melancholy? Pain? Was it pain? Oh no. _No, please don't_ , Koushi thought. He didn't want that. He never wanted harm or sadness or pain or anything that wasn't good to ever reach Daichi. This wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want him to hurt. He wanted to make it go away; it didn't matter if it had to hurt him instead. He just wanted Daichi to be happy, be it the cost of his own.

 _Should I tell him?_ He thought, suddenly questioning his resolve. _He just wants to know, after all. He doesn't have to accept it, anyway._  

The sincerity of Daichi's words managed to writhe its way into his core. It tore at him even more so. This was why he didn't want to have anything to do with Daichi. Any small trace of him would leave the resolve he had so painstakingly built over time come crumbling down in a breath. How delicate his resolve was, he bitterly thought.

_If I tell him, would it make the pain go away?_

“Suga...” Daichi quietly said. He can see Koushi hesitating. “I just want you back into my life... Please?” Koushi opened his mouth to speak, but he continued, “but if you tell me you don't want me back in yours, then, I swear,” he paused, clearly preparing himself for his next words, “I'll respect that and I won't bother you anymore. Ever.”

“Oh my god,” Koushi said breathlessly. That escalated far too quickly than he could catch up with. He closed the distance between the them. The look in Daichi's eyes, his words, his sincerity, he couldn't quite explain what they did to him, saying that they broke his heart would probably only scratch the surface. He reached out to touch the other's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “No, Daichi, no,” he cooed soothingly, “that's not true. Please, please don't say that, of course I want you in my life. More than anything. And I'm glad that you want me in yours, too. Knowing that makes me really, really happy.”

Daichi looked at him with the same pained look in his eyes and waited. Koushi gave him a last squeeze on the arm and let go. He took a step back and bit his lip.

“You said that we won't be seeing much of each other, and I understand that i's inevitable,” he said. “And to be honest, Daichi, I'm not ready to tell you anything yet. Or ever, for that matter,” he laughed shakily as he tightened his grip on the tube in his hands. “But I think I'm at least strong enough to break what I said and tell you now. Can you please promise me that you won't hate me?”

“Of course,” Daichi replied in all seriousness. His heart was throbbing in his chest. The way Koushi was acting was making him tremble with nervousness and anticipation.

Koushi took a deep breath. “You remember that time when we won a game and I ran to you and you caught me in a hug?” Daichi nodded. “You held onto me really tight, then you kissed my forehead and my cheek—”

 _Oh god. I knew it, this was my fault. He hated it and he avoided me because of it_ , Daichi thought frantically. _What the hell was I even thinking? Fuck, Daichi, you fucked up really bad and now_ _—_

“—Well, I think I may have seen you in a different light that time, and you know, since then...” He hesitated and bit his lip again. He wanted to face Daichi as he spoke, but he ended up lowering his head and instead concentrated looking at the buttons of his jacket as his words blurred with each other when he spoke rapidly, “I may actually have feelings for you, Dai. Like, not friendly feelings or anything, but the other kind of feelings. The way you held onto me and the way you looked at me and the way we were just around each other felt different to me and I don't know when it first started to feel different, but ever since it did, I struggled to ignore it and shrug it off as nothing but I just can't and they just wouldn't leave and the only thing I've thought of what would be an effective way to kill them off is to keep away from you as much as possible, so that's why I kept away from you, and I actually planned on telling you this after I've gotten over it and we could laugh it off as a joke, but I guess it takes a while and right now, it looks like they're still there with no signs of leaving and I know this sounds stupid coming from me, but you said you wanted to know so I thought okay, I'll tell you about it, so here I am, telling you about it,” he finished, breathless. “There, I said it.” He hid his face behind his cold, violently shaking hands, one of which still held onto his diploma. “Sorry it took a while,” he said, laughing nervously.

Koushi felt so many things all at once. There was an uncomfortable heat across his face. There was an unbearable amount of embarrassment, it felt as if he could die right then and there. And he felt scared. He took a gamble with finally saying what he felt, and all there was left now was to wait.

Speechless. Daichi stood there, firmly rooted to the ground, agape. It took him every fiber of his being to try and convince himself to believe what he had just heard. He didn't even notice the red that had crept from his neck into his face, or the breath he was holding. He continued to stare at Koushi, face covered in trembling hands. It seemed as if all that time they spent avoiding each other like the plague had melted away into nothingness in the face of this moment. This moment was everything. With his mouth still hanging half-open, his hands reached for each of Koushi's wrists, prying them away. They wouldn't budge, Koushi stubbornly kept his hands firm on his face. “Come on, Suga, let go,” he said. “No,” he answered. Daichi focused all his energy into a single, forceful pull, and finally managed to wrench away Koushi's hands, revealing his face. The corners of his lips were tilted down and his eyes glimmered, moist. His face was flushed, from his cheeks, to his nose, to his ears. 

Seeing him as he was, all Daichi had managed to say was a breathless, “really?”

“What... What do you mean really?”

“I mean, what—what you said just now... Did you really mean it? All of it?”

Biting down on his lip, Koushi managed a shaky smile. “Daichi, I nearly died out of embarrassment telling you all that. Actually, even now, I'm still embarrassed,” he said as his face turned more pink, “if you're still not convinced, I'm prepared to slug you in the stomach to let you know that of course I meant it. All of it.”

"You... You don't need to do that, honestly, you don't." Daichi covered his eyes with a hand, trying to make the uncomfortable heat on his face die down. “Suga,” he breathed, heavily dragging each syllable. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but then... Can I take that as a confession?”

“Confession,” Koushi repeated. He smiled. It didn't cross his mind to think of it as a confession. “I suppose it is. But don't get me wrong, Daichi, I'm not asking you to return my feelings or anything.”

“Yeah, okay, but...” Daichi held his breath as he awkwardly reached for one of Koushi's hands, lacing their fingers together. He brought it to his lips and spoke into Koushi's hand, “would it be okay if I returned them?”

The fading pink of Koushi's face deepened into red as he felt Daichi's lips lightly touch the back of his hand. “W-What?”

“I am reciprocating your feelings, Suga,” Daichi said awkwardly, articulating every syllable. “I want to be with you. Always.”

Koushi, overwhelmed by his emotions, felt tears glide smoothly down his cheeks. He let go of their entwined fingers and wrapped his arms around the other's neck, burying his face into his shoulder. “I swear to god, Daichi, if this is some sick joke, I swear I will hurt you,” he said, his voice breaking against the fabric of Daichi's jacket. Koushi felt him laugh. He dug his face deeper as gentle fingers grazed his hair. “Because there's nothing I could ever want more than that.”

Daichi held him tightly and said in a voice that was soothing and sincere, “then we'll make it so, Koushi.”

**Author's Note:**

> A [beautiful art](http://tadeles.tumblr.com/post/70953557959) that hit my heart, a conversation in all caps, a lot of moaning, a typhoon and two black-outs later, I finally finish this. 
> 
> Dear lord, this is my first fic in aaaaages, really it's been maybe half a decade ago since I wrote any shippy fics, so I hope it's okay. Because really, I just wanted a fluffy DaiSuga fic. There's probably already a ton out there, so I'll just throw this one in. Anyway, that one art hit me so bad like all these ideas just came and idk I just felt a mighty need to write it, I suppose. References include my own heartbreak, so I hope it feels realistic enough? 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked it. :>
> 
> PS Please _do_ comment when you have the time. It would mean a lot to me. Thank you!


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